


a game for the young

by decinq



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, this is literally pointless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8234807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decinq/pseuds/decinq
Summary: The plane touches down and Kent can see Jeff stuffing his iPad into his bag from the corner of his eye. Kent keeps looking out the window with glazed eyes. Jeff doesn't hesitate to reach out and touch his knee. "Hey," he says, soft. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misandrywitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misandrywitch/gifts).
  * Inspired by [like a wheel inside you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7315117) by [misandrywitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misandrywitch/pseuds/misandrywitch). 



> i love u sarah. hopefully this will work as incentive for your sequel. other than that, it's literally pointless and honestly pretty lame, but. whatever. steady as she goes

"It's no big deal. One night at dinner I said, 'Mom, you know the forbidden love that Spock has for Kirk? Well, me too.'”  
― Holly Black, _Tithe: A Modern Faerie Tale_

 

 

 

 

 

 

Their plane touches down and Kent can see Jeff stuffing his iPad into his bag from the corner of his eye. Kent keeps looking out the window with glazed eyes. Jeff doesn't hesitate to reach out and touch Kent’s knee. "Hey," he says, soft. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Kent smiles. He pushes his knee into Jeff’s. The rest of the team has started to stand in their seats, Cooper is trying to get his bag from the overhead compartment across the aisle. “I was thinking about the buffalo, Mr. Spock,” he says.

Jeff’s mouth drops open a bit, forming a small circle, and then he smiles, open-mouthed with his eyes turning to crescents, and Kent laughs. “Give me a little credit, dude, for real.”

Jeff shakes his head, lets out a small huff of laughter. Kent squeezes his fingers around his forearm once before he stands. “Right,” Jeff says, his face going serious again before he bites at his own lip. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?”

“A while,” Kent says, and Jeff steps into the aisle of the plane. Kent follows him.

  
  
  
  


 

 

 

Kent hasn’t met Jeff’s mom officially. He’s seen her, thinks he may have smiled at her in the hallway outside the locker room a few years ago, back when they were younger and both more or less complicated, depending on perspective. And the last time Jeff was on the phone with her, he had handed the phone off to Kent for whatever reason, and Kent had panicked, but they’d fallen into conversation easily. She’s nice, Kent thinks. She clearly loves Jeff something fierce, which—Kent’s not sure why she wouldn’t, but she seems like a good mom. They seem like a cool family, Jeff and his siblings and his mom.

Jeff doesn’t talk about his dad much, but then again, neither does Kent. It’s different, not just leagues apart but worlds, probably. Kent can’t imagine. But Jeff always smiles when he talks to his family, always seems happy. Seems like a happy person in general and a settled, fun, well-adjusted person in particular. Kent knows that’s not always true—Jeff’s not some pinnacle of a person who is incapable of fuck-ups. But he’s a good person, not the kind of person Kent ever imagined he would get to be with. Nicer than Jack, nerdy in a different way than Jack seems to be now. He isn’t cold, and he’s smart, and he’s obsessed with space and is really thriving in his new found bi-ness. He’s a gentle person, huge but never imposing unless it’s on the ice, and he marathons Harry Potter with Kent, and Kent is probably definitely maybe ass over teakettle in love with him, and for the first time in Kent’s life, it seems like that’s a fine thing to be.

  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

They get to the hotel and Kent tosses his bag onto the bed by the door. He doesn’t like travelling at night, hates the way airplane air sticks to his skin and how he can never decide whether he wants to shower or just pass out. Jeff throws his bag half-way across the room so that it lands on the bed beside Kent’s, and he’s lining up his sliders by the door as Kent throws himself back onto the other bed, not bothering to move to get under the blankets or take off his own shoes. “I’m showering,” Jeff says, which has been his usual routine since they started rooming together years ago. He takes some kind of weird thrill in getting the shower first, which Kent figures is the result of a childhood of fighting over the bathroom. It’s the new addendum of, “You can join me, if you want to,” is nice, still shy after months of them learning to wade through it. Kent rolls onto his side, his head resting on his left elbow, and he smiles.

“Yeah?”

Jeff shrugs. “You’ll feel terrible if you fall asleep without showering.” He says it like he’s trying to look out for Kent, like he’s trying to convince him that it’s for his own good other than the clear benefit of getting in the shower with his giant, beautiful boyfriend.

Kent winks at him, and says, “Whatever you say, honey.”

Jeff doesn’t even respond, just goes into the bathroom and gets the water running. Kent gets up, and by the time he gets into the bathroom, Jeff’s clothes are folded on top of the toilet.

Kent shucks his sweatpants and pulls his sweatshirt and t-shirt over his head at once. He pulls back the shower curtain and steps into the shower. It’s smaller than the one at Kent’s house, smaller than the one at Jeff and Mully’s place. Jeff’s taller than the shower can really accommodate, the spray from the head barely hitting the bottom of Jeff’s neck. It’s a tight fit, the two of them in here at once, but Jeff shifts when Kent steps in behind him, steps to the side so that Kent can stand under the spray.

When Kent turns to face Jeff, careful about his footing, he touches his hands to Jeff’s side. “You’re being kinda quiet,” Jeff says.

Jeff likes to talk things out, likes to understand what’s happening even when Kent’s not sure anything actually is. It’s a learning curve for Kent, for sure, but it’s not always bad. Isn’t always hard or scary. Sometimes it’s just nice.

“I’m kinda nervous,” he says. Jeff lathers shampoo into Kent’s hair, fingers catching on a small tug where it’s getting too long, curling with the length and the water.

“I assumed you were quoting Kirk to me to make me feel better.” Jeff says, and Kent can hear the smile on his face even if he’s not looking up at him, his eyes closed. Jeff tilts Kent’s head back into the spray with a hand on his jaw, rinses Kent’s hair.

Kent opens his eyes and looks Jeff in the eye. He’s not smiling, but he’s not not smiling, and it’s strange, but Kent can feel the softness in it, the affection. “I’ve never—” Kent runs his hands up Jeff’s ribs and moves his hands forward to rest against his chest. “I’ve never brought anyone home before. My mom—she’s excited. I don’t know.”

“Honestly,” Jeff says, stepping back from Kent for long enough to unwrap the horrible bar of hotel soap that Kent would never use if Jeff weren’t there, “I’m a bit more nervous to meet your sister.”

Kent steps up onto his tiptoes and presses forward into Jeff’s chest until he can kiss him, soft, close-lipped and quick, and he smiles after. “Thank you,” he says.

“For what?”

Kent shrugs. “For doing this. It’s—“

“It’s your family,” Jeff says. “Plus like. It’s not like I couldn’t just not come here. We do have a game tomorrow.”

“I know,” Kent says, and rolls his eyes before pushing back the shower curtain stepping one foot out onto the floor. “Still,” he says, and lets the curtain fall closed.

  
  
  
  


 

 

 

Kent wakes up in the middle of the night, Jeff’s hand over his waist, Jeff’s knees pressed into the back of his, Jeff breathing out slowly against the back on Kent’s neck. He laces their fingers together, and Jeff doesn’t even shift. Kent’s heart feels heavy and light at the same time, and he doesn’t know what it means. Nothing hurts. He’s happy, but some part of it makes him feel uneasy. Like it’s too good to be true.

He runs his thumb over the skin over Jeff’s knuckles, and eventually falls back to sleep.

  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

Jeff drinks his coffee soaked with cream, which isn’t a way Kent would have ever described it until he heard Mully say it. Kent is watching Jeff blearily sip at the mug in his hand. Kent’s is still too hot, but his has just a little bit of soy milk in it, isn’t half coffee and half cream.

Kent asks, “How did you tell your mom we were—” He makes a vague hand gesture between them, and Jeff blinks at him, still half asleep despite being the one who dragged Kent downstairs for hotel breakfast.

“I…” He takes a big sip of his coffee. “Have you not, uh, talked to your mom about this?”

Kent shakes his head. “Of course I have,” he says. “Just like. I don’t know, I came out to her at the dinner table when I was fifteen, it’s not a big deal.”

“Why are you so nervous?”

Kent shrugs. Doesn’t actually know why. They’re going over to her place after ice, for late brunch or something, Kent’s sure she’ll pull out all the stops, hopes there’s strawberries to put on top of everything.

Jeff doesn’t say anything for a few beats, and neither does Kent, and it’s a little bit weird but Kent, again, can’t put his finger on why.

“I wish we were here for longer,” Jeff says, finally, and Kent looks up from his coffee mug to meet his eye.

“Really?”

Jeff shrugs. “I know you don’t really think of this place as home anymore, but I’ve never been to the Falls, and like. I always wanted to live in Canada as a kid. This is practically Canada.”

“It most definitely is not,” Kent says, and Jeff laughs, and something falls back into place.

  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

Jeff is totally zoned out at practice, staring off into space, and Kent says, “Ground control to major Jeff,” and Jeff looks over at him, his eyes wide. “Catching flies?” Kent asks, and Jeff shuts his open mouth with a click of teeth.

“Star gazing,” Mully says, and Jeff punches him as he skates past him. Mully laughs and says, “What’s the quote you like? Running around space is a kid’s game?”

Jeff groans. “ _Stop_ ,” he says, and he actually sounds pained.

“Galloping around the cosmos is a game for the young,” Kent says. “Come on, dude.”

“Not you, too,” Cooper says. “What’d you do to Parser?” He asks, turning on Jeff.

“I made him binge watch the Original Series, but I didn’t force the movies on him.”

“I did that myself,” Kent says, although really he’d done it to make Jeff happy. To have a reason to put his head in Jeff’s lap and close his eyes. To try to imagine what Jeff took from it all, what kind of different story he was getting, other than two gay guys in space with all their buddies. It’s a nice show, but it’s a bit too tongue-in-cheek for Kent’s taste.

“Boys!” Coach yells across the ice, and they all drop it. When they move forward to run their drill, Jeff knocks his elbow into Kent’s and smiles.

  


 

 

 

 

 

 

They shower at the rink and then meet Lola outside. She’s got her car running, and Kent can hear the radio blaring through the closed windows. “Ready?” Kent asks, and nods, gives Kent a weak smile.

Kent tabs his knuckles against the driver’s side window, and Lola jumps a bit before opening the door. “You scared the ever-loving shit out of me,” she says, and Kent laughs.

“Hey, bug,” he says, dropping his bag to give her a proper hug.

“Hi,” she says into his shoulder.

Kent steps back, lets his arms fall away. “You know Jeff,” he says, and Jeff steps forward.

“Sure do,” she says. Jeff sticks out his giant hand, so they shake.

“It’s great to meet you again,” Lola says. “Toss your stuff in the back, let’s go. Mom’s got enough food for a small army back at the house.” Kent offers Jeff the passenger seat, and Lola says, “You’re a guest, Jeff, so you get to pick the music,” which is a nice ploy, because Lola’s steadfast rule has always been “my car, my music,” and even though Kent bought her the car, he’s never fought her on it before. She meets his eye in the rearview mirror part way through the drive and winks at him.

  


Lola parks in the garage, and Kent cracks his knuckles once before getting out of the car. Lola holds the door that leads into the house open, and Kent goes through first, Jeff right behind him.

Lola shouts, “We’re back,” into the house, and Kent turns to smile tightly at Jeff before he takes his hand.

Kent pulls Jeff behind him, and Jeff’s palm is sweaty, his grip tight in Kent’s. They step into the kitchen and his mom turns to face them just as they do. “Hi Kenny,” his mom says, and Kent drops Jeff’s hand to hug her.

“Hi Mama,” he says, squeezing her tight. They hug for a long moment and then she releases him.

“And Jeffrey,” she says, stepping to give Jeff a hug too. Jeff lets out a sot, surprised laugh but he hugs her back.

“You can call me Jeff, Mrs. Parson.”

She laughs, and blushes, and Kent moves to stand beside Jeff, raises his arm to set it on his back. “Then you’ll have to call me Anne.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Anne,” Jeff says. “Thank you for having me.”

They make small talk for a few minutes while Lola grabs a stack of plates from the cupboard. She hands them out, and Kent’s mom laughs. “Message received loud and clear, honey.” She turns to Jeff. “There’s plenty of food, take whatever you’d like,” she gestures to the spread of bacon and waffles that she’s set up on the counter, strawberries and homemade whipped cream off to the side. “I know it’s not strictly within your diet, and that it’s a game day, but waffles are Kent’s favourite.”

“We can carb-load, mom, it’s all good.”

“Thank you,” Jeff says. “It smells amazing.”

“Help yourself,” she says. “I’m sure this won’t surprise you, but we don’t often sit at the table, so you guys go ahead and make yourselves comfortable. I’m just going to put the kettle on. Coffee?”

“Tea?” Kent asks, and then starts to load up his plate.

  
  
  


 

 

It goes well, better than Kent could have expected, actually. There are no baby photos. They just talk about nothing, their plans for the summer and what their schedules have been like. Kent shows his mom photos of the cat and she tells him about her cooking class that she’s been taking. Lola talks about her classes, and asks Jeff about his family, and it’s generally a good time. When Lola starts talking about her astrology class, Jeff perks up a bit, and Kent smiles fondly at him. The two of them talk about space for a bit, and Kent’s mom meets his eyes, and Kent smiles.

She mouths, “He’s cute,” and Kent breathes out a laugh, smiles and nods.

“I know,” he silently mouths back at her.

 

 

 

 

 

When they’re leaving, he hugs her again. “I’ll see you tonight at the game,” he says, and she squeezes him tighter than before.

“I know,” she says. Jeff and Lola are already getting into the car, and she pats his arm once before squeezing his arm gently. “You seem happy,” she says, quiet, and Kent loves her more than he can say.

“I think I am,” he says, and she smiles. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“You boys have a good nap,” she says, and winks, and Kent groans.

“Bye,” he says, and slides into the back seat up Lola’s car and joins in on their conversation about which member of One Direction is better, which gets them all the way back to the hotel.

  
  
  
  
  


 

 

When they’re in bed and Kent’s half asleep, most of the way into his nap, Jeff says, “I like them a lot,” and Kent hums, happily, against Jeff’s chest.

“Me too,” Kent says.

  
  
  
  


 

 

 

They win, although it’s not an easy game. But they’re the better team of the evening, Kent and Jeff each with a goal by the end of it. Kent is sweaty and grinning in the locker room when some guy from Sportsnet gets a mic in his face.

“Parson,” he says. “Another game in your hometown. How’d you feel about it tonight?”

“It’s always a been nerve wracking,” Kent says. “But we played well, fought hard, came back from that tough first period. I thought we did alright,” he laughs, and gets a smile back from the beat.

“You had a great game, 2 plus for your line.”

“It’s always nice to play well at home,” Kent says. He meets Jeff’s eye across the room, who's giving his own interview from his stall. “It’s a bit more special when family’s watching. My three favourite people are in the building, and it always means a bit more when we’re all together.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
